


Dream Come True

by ireadhpinenochian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, djinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 14:18:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3491486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireadhpinenochian/pseuds/ireadhpinenochian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean won't tell anyone what happened after the Djinn got him. Sam thinks it's pretty obvious, seeing as he can't even look Cas in the eye anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Come True

Dean wouldn’t tell anyone about what had happened in his djinn induced fantasy. Sam and Cas wouldn’t have minded so much, but Dean was acting weird. Every time Sam so much as opened his mouth, Dean was huffing his way out of the room with a clipped, “Not going to talk about it.” But at least he didn’t have it as bad as Cas who Dean wouldn’t even look at. Whenever Dean so much as glimpsed a five o’clock shadow or rumpled bed head, he was spinning on his heel and marching a hasty retreat to his room. With his back turned he never saw the look of hurt and confusion cross his best friend’s face. But Sam did.

Sam knew that Cas was spending almost all of his time working on his aim or pumping iron, convinced that he was at fault for Dean’s capture and that was why Dean didn’t want him in the bunker anymore. He also knew that it was only a matter of time before Cas left, thinking himself completely unwelcome if he couldn’t prove himself as a human hunter. The last thing Sam knew for sure was that despite Dean’s infuriating actions, it would break him to have Cas leave.

That was why, after a week straight of no change in Dean’s behavior, Sam decided to confront him. He knocked on his door. “Dean?” he called, and then without waiting for an answer he opened the door and came in.

“Fuck, Sammy, you don’t even wait for a response? I coulda been naked!” Dean shouted.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you in worse situations,” he said. “Besides, I needed the element of surprise to make it in here. You’ve been avoiding me all week.”

Dean shrugged and walked over to sit on his bed. “I don’t feel like sharing with the class,” he said. “And god knows you can’t keep from going all Dr. Phil every time I so much as have an extra drink at dinner.”

“I care about you,” Sam said. “Sue me.” He held up a hand to keep Dean from snorting out a response. “But this isn’t about me,” he went on. “I know you. I saw how you were after the last time you came back from a djinn dream. I know you just need time to work shit out on your own.”

“Okay,” Dean said. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

Sam paused for a moment. “Have you seen Cas lately?”

“What?” Dean asked, a little too quickly and high pitched for it to be anything other than suspicious. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said. “Maybe because he’s given up on trying to talk to you and has instead decided he’s going to work himself to death becoming the next great hunter so you won’t kick him out of the bunker.”

“What?” Dean shouted. “Why the hell would he think I’m going to kick him out?”

“Come on, man,” Sam said. “You won’t even look at him anymore. He thinks you blame him for what happened.”

“Is that what he told you?” he asked. “That he thinks I blame him? You know that’s not true, right, Sam?”

“Of course I do,” Sam replied. “That’s what I told him, but we all know that when it comes to Cas your word is law, and mine’s the footnote in a law book.”

“That’s not true,” Dean mumbled, but even he didn’t sound convinced of the lie.

“Look,” Sam said. “If you don’t want to talk to me, fine, whatever, I get it. If you don’t want to talk about whatever the hell happened in your little fantasy world, that’s fine, too. But, Dean… you _have_ to talk to Cas. He’s been wandering around like a lost little puppy when he’s not being seriously terrifying firing off clip after clip.”

Dean sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “It’s just—it’s hard, Sammy. It’s hard to be around him.”

“Why?” Sam asked, flinging his arms up. “What could you have possibly seen that would make it hard to be around your best friend?”

Dean felt the tears welling up, so he kept his head down and tried to hide the choke in his voice by dropping it a couple octaves. “I can’t, Sammy. I just can’t.”

Sam bit his lip, wondering how much he should push. “Was it—I mean, were you together? With Cas?”

Dean’s head shot up, his red-rimmed, watery eyes huge in shock. “What?”

Sam tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not like I haven’t wondered about you two before. I mean, the longing looks, the total lack of personal space—just the way you two act around each other—or hell, even apart from each other.” He shrugged again. “It just wouldn’t surprise me.”

“And it wouldn’t bug you?” Dean asked in a small voice.

“Bug me?” Sam laughed. “Why the hell would it bug me? I mean, I don’t want to see you two like making out or anything, but knowing that my brother and my best friend are happy? Trust me, Dean, it wouldn’t bug me at all.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, that’s good to know, but it’s not like it really matters.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

Dean scrubbed his hands over his face. “Can we not talk about this anymore? I’ve reached my limit for heartfelt moments for the next ten years.”

Sam sighed, but knew the conversation was over. “At least stop ignoring Cas,” he told him and with that he left.

—

“Why can’t I leave for a run, exactly?” Cas asked, eyes narrowed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Because,” he said. “I refuse to go one more day without you watching Indiana Jones.” He waved the three DVD cases in Cas’ face before plopping down on the couch. “Sammy’s getting the snacks, _Raiders_ is already in the player, so sit down, take a load off. You’ve been working yourself to death lately.”

Cas frowned and perched himself on the couch next to Dean. “I was under the impression that you no longer found my presence agreeable.”

“Cas,” Dean sighed. “That wasn’t—I just needed some readjustment time. That djinn really threw me for a loop, you know?”

His frown deepening, Cas nodded.

“I’m sorry, alright?” Dean said. “This movie night thing—this—“ Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “I still find your presence agreeable, or whatever, okay? Let’s just not make a big deal out of it.”

“Alright, Dean,” Cas replied with a small grin, scooting back until he was comfortably seated on the couch.

A minute later Sam came into the room, arms filled with candy, a bag of popcorn dangling from one hand.

“Here’s your disgusting licorice,” he said, dropping a bag of red vines onto Dean’s lap.

“Hey, don’t try and turn Cas off of it before he even tries it! Just because your taste buds aren’t as refined as mine,” Dean told him, tearing into the bag. He picked one out and held it in front of Cas. “Wanna try the greatest movie candy ever invented?” he asked him with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Cas glared at the red stick of licorice. “What’s the difference between movie candy and regular candy?” he asked, taking it from Dean and letting it hover in front of his mouth as he waited for Dean’s answer.

“Nothing really,” Dean replied. “Some candies just go with the whole movie watching experience. Now try, you’ll like it.”

Cas nodded solemnly and took a small bite. A thoughtful expression crossed his features as he chewed.

Dean tore into his own piece. “Good, ain’t it?” he asked, mouth still full.

“It is quite pleasing, yes,” he agreed, taking a larger bite.

“Not you, too!” Sam groaned.

Cas merely smiled to himself as he took another bite.

—

Halfway through _Temple of Doom_ Dean’s head started to droop. Five minutes into _Last Crusade_ had Dean dozing lightly on Cas’ shoulder.

Petrified, Cas slowly turned his head to plead for Sam’s help.

“Push him off if he’s bugging you,” Sam told him with a shrug. “Otherwise just leave him. I don’t think he’s been sleeping much, lately.”

Cas gave a solemn nod and turned back to the television screen, letting Dean rest on in peace.

Just as Sean Connery caused a flock of birds to take to the sky, Dean woke up with a rather unattractive snort. He put a hand on Cas’ knee to help steady himself as he sat up.

“Fuck, I am exhausted,” he muttered. And then, turning to Cas, asked, “You staying up?”

Cas nodded. “I’m enjoying this movie very much. I think it’s my favorite one.”

Dean nodded. “Alright.” He leaned in and gave Cas a quick peck on the mouth. “Night, babe,” he added, pushing himself up from the couch, giving Cas’ knee a quick squeeze as he did so.

Dean made it to the door of the living room before realizing what had just happened. He froze. His shoulders tensed, his hands became fists. Slowly, he dared to turn his head to find Sam. When he caught his eye, Dean mouthed, _Did I just kiss Cas?_

A huge smile on his face, Sam nodded and pressed a hand to his mouth to keep the laughter from escaping.

Dean gave a single, curt nod, turned his head back around and fled to his room.

If he had bothered to look at Cas he would have seen the look of awe written across his features as he slowly lifted a hand to touch his lips, checking to see if the sensation would be different from when Dean’s had pressed against them not moments ago.

“You okay there, Cas?” Sam asked.

Cas lowered his hand back down to his lap. “I believe so,” he replied after a while.

—

Dean curled up on his bed, a tiny ball in the upper right corner. Ever since the djinn he’d been unable to reclaim his whole bed, no matter how hard he tried. He’d purposely make himself lie down in the middle, but within minutes he would drift to his side. Mornings always found him reaching out for a figure that was never there, had never been there.

He curled in on himself tighter. He could feel the button on his jeans digging into his stomach and he welcomed the pain. Anything to take his mind from what had just happened. Anything to distract him from the fact that he allowed his fantasy to bleed through into the real world.

He wondered how Cas was reacting. Maybe he would pretend like it never happened, let Dean retain some dignity. They could stay friends like that. Nothing would have to change like that.

Maybe Cas was already packing his bags, too disgusted to stay another night in the bunker with a man who used to be a demon. A man who would probably go to hell and become one again.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut to try and trap the tears, but they streamed down his face anyway. They wouldn’t stop. Dean just wanted them to stop. He wanted everything to just stop. He wished he’d never been caught by that stupid djinn. He wished he’d never left that stupid dream.

A knock broke Dean out of his downward spiral. And then a graveled, “Dean,” threatened to throw him right back into one.

He wanted to tell him to go away, but before the words could form the door opened.

“Dean, may I come in?” Cas asked, standing just outside the doorway.

Well, it was now or never. Dean might as well get whatever this was going to turn out to be over with.

“Yeah,” Dean grunted.

Cas took a few steps into the room, paused for a moment, and then continued to the bed where he perched about two feet from Dean’s curled form.

“Sam told me that I should ask you about what happened in the djinn dream,” Cas said softly. “But I don’t want to force you if you’re uncomfortable.”

Dean snorted. “It’s not like you can’t figure it out for yourself.”

Cas ran his hands over the deep blue comforter on either side of him. “I don’t want to presume anything. I fear my own desires are clouding my judgment.”

“What?” Dean asked, pushing himself into a sitting position with his back against the headboard. He quickly wiped his face, hoping Cas hadn’t seen the evidence of his tears. “What do you mean?”

Cas sighed. “I know that I am reading too much into the situation,” he said slowly, picking each word carefully. “And I know that I am most likely hoping for too much… I suppose I am just confused.” He squinted his eyes and turned them on Dean. “You are extremely difficult to decipher.”

“I’m an open book,” Dean retorted.

“Perhaps,” Cas mused. “But you’re not written in any language in which I’m fluent.”

Dean let a small grin pull at the corner of his mouth. “You—uh—you were there,” he told him, looking away. “In the djinn dream, I mean.” Cas nodded but didn’t say anything, so Dean continued, “Sammy was there, too. He was happy. He, uh,” Dean paused to clear his throat, “he was trying to convince us to get a dog.”

“A dog?” Cas asked, head tilted. “Why?”

Dean laughed. “He’s always wanted one,” he said. “He kept saying that we had a home now, that we should get a dog to go with it. Told me it could be any kind I wanted, he didn’t care. Even offered to let me name it.”

“Did you ever get the dog?”

“Nah,” Dean said. “He was wearing me down, though. Another couple of days and there would have been a mutt running around the bunker.”

Cas smiled. “What would you have named the dog?”

Dean shrugged. “Dunno,” he said. “Something awesome, though.”

Silence descended upon them after that. Dean drummed a random beat onto his knees with his thumbs. Cas continued to marvel at the fabric underneath his hands.

“How long were you there?” Cas finally asked.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek before saying, “About three months, I think.”

Cas nodded. “You said Sam was happy. Were you?”

Dean kept his eyes firmly planted on his knees. “Yeah. All three of us were.”

“I am happy,” Cas told him. “Here. With you.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, still keeping his eyes glued to the same spot on his jeans.

“Yes,” Cas said firmly. “I enjoy our time together.”

Dean could feel the tears forming, but refused to let them out. They blurred his vision.

“Dean?” Cas asked, and Dean finally dared to look up into those galaxies Cas called eyes. “Are you happy?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said. “I’m happy.”

Cas set his jaw and nodded. “Were you happier? In the dream?”

“I—I thought I was,” Dean told him. “But it wasn’t real.”

“How did you figure out it wasn’t real?” Cas asked.

“You,” Dean laughed, and he felt the first few tears trail down his cheeks.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You, uh, agreed with me.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I often agree with you. You have great insight.”

Dean blushed and tried to laugh it off. “Well, thanks, Cas, but trust me. _You_ would not have agreed on this one.”

“What was I agreeing to?”

Dean grinned. “You said you’d hang back on a hunt ‘cause I said it was too dangerous.”

“You’re right,” Cas said, his voice taking on a hint of anger. “I would not have agreed with you on that. I’m not a child, Dean, I’m perfectly capable of assisting on hunts—“

“I know, Cas, I know,” Dean told him, laughing. “But that’s how I figured it out. You’d never let me get away with asking you something like that, let alone agree with it.” He let out a sigh. “I guess in my dream world I got to keep you safe, but…” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “I’d rather have you.”

Cas stood up from the bed and it was like a knife to Dean’s heart. Dean had thought that maybe Cas had reciprocated, that maybe he could have dreamed up the same almost perfect world, but if he was leaving then obviously he’d been wrong. He let more tears spill from his eyes, punishment for his stupidity, and he looked back down to his knees. He couldn’t stand to see Cas walk away from him.

A gentle hand nudged his face back up. Cas was still there, just closer. He took a seat next to Dean, their hips brushing together.

“We should get Sam a dog,” Cas told him, using his thumb to wipe some of the tears from Dean’s cheeks. “You’re right. It would make him happy.”

Dean reached up and grabbed Cas’ hand, holding it where it was. His stomach squirmed in anticipation and the tiniest hint of dread.

Cas leaned forward, his lips almost to Dean’s—

“Wait,” Dean said. Cas pulled away immediately, trying to take his hand back but Dean wouldn’t give up his grip on it.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, confusion furrowing his brow. “Is this not—is this not what you want?”

“No, it’s not that,” Dean assured him. “I want this, I just…” Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “This is real, right? Because I can’t lose you again, Cas, I just can’t.”

“This is real, Dean,” he told him. “I suppose you could say it is a ‘dream come true.’” He bit his lips to keep his grin at bay while he waited for Dean’s reaction.

“Oh god, Cas,” Dean groaned before he burst into laughter. “That was horrible, man.”

Cas’ face fell a little, before he realized that Dean had brought up the hand not gripping his tightly to bring his head back in close.

“This has got to be real,” Dean whispered as they lay their foreheads together. “I never would have dreamed up something that cheesy.”

Cas’ retort was swallowed up as Dean finally kissed him.


End file.
